Pieces of Me
by sparkley-tangerine
Summary: Matt and Mohinder are living together raising Molly after Kirby Place. When Bob reveals Peter is alive, Matt has to worry about Peter coming into their lives and stealing Mohinder away from them. Then there's Sylar, who doesn't want to let Mohinder go..
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Yes I've discovered a new pairing to fawn over. To my defense, it was completely random that I found Unexpected by Jennifer Wand and fell in love with the pairing. Read her fic and see for yourself!

WARNING! There will be slash in here, for anyone who hasn't figured that out yet. Also mentions of darker themes and more about what happened between Sylar and Mohinder in 'Parasite.'

This fic will follow with the series to a point and then veer off into my own spin.

Disclaimer( For all chapters) I do not own Heroes or any of the ideas affiliated with it. Heroes belongs to NBC and Tim Kring.

* * *

**Pieces of Me**

**Chapter One: Preparation and Invitation**

It had been ages since he had returned to his father's modest apartment in New York City, but the reality of taking on the responsibility of a ten-year-old child won the battle against his fear of returning to the place of his nightmares.

Linderman was dead and The Company was too preoccupied with the mess of the Kirby Place Disaster to truly worry about Mohinder stealing Molly Walker away.

Niki and Micah kept an eye on the sleeping girl, as they both waited on news about their heroes. It gave the Indian man just enough time to return to his apartment to remove the bloodstained carpet and scrub the walls with bleach and Mr. Clean. Glass shards were picked from the still-stained walls before the holes were plastered and hidden away by a fresh coat of the leftover paint he had found in the closet.

The ceiling couldn't be helped- six holes in the wood, each surrounded by a rusty-red color, like a twisted sort of abstract flower art- but if anyone asked, Mohinder was confident he could pull of the claim of ignorance.

Exhausted and more than a bit shaken, he looked around the room where he had been beaten, tortured and violated by a telekinetic psychopath, astonished that it looked…..normal. Like nothing bad had even happened here.

The high-pitched, techno ring of a cell phone pulled Mohinder from his depressing thoughts as he jerked around to grab for it.

"Suresh here."

"Dr. Suresh, it's Niki Saunders." The blonde's voice mimicked his own weariness. "D.L. is out of surgery now and should be put into his own room soon. Maybe you could come and get Molly? She's starting to worry-"

"Oh, of course." The geneticist exclaimed, already grabbing his jacket off the back of one of the kitchen chairs. "I was just about to come back anyway. I'll be there in thirty minutes."

"Okay. Bye."

Mohinder closed the door on the drying paint, new carpet, blood stains and bad memories to go find a little girl.

His little girl.

* * *

"Will Officer Parkman really be okay?" 

To a little girl's mind, all the technical babble of a doctor meant nothing. Everything stood on the answer to that much-too-simple question.

"Once he gets some rest and heals, he'll be fine." Mohinder said softly, patting her long reddish-brown hair with affection.

"Can we see him?"

The doctor sent the Indian man a hard look. "Officer Parkman doesn't look very nice right now, sweetie-"

He could almost feel her panic at those words; they were words that hid the truth from her. Molly wouldn't believe her hero was alright until she saw him with her own eyes.

"We'd like to see him as soon as possible, please."

The doctor gave him a veiled look of disapproval before nodding and sweeping off to give the details to the on-duty nurses. Mohinder rubbed his forehead tiredly as Molly practically vibrated with tension.

It was silent, almost awkwardly, as they waited for the okay. Molly fiddled with the bottom of her shirt and the buttons on her jacket thoroughly before a kindly-looking older woman called out "Parkman family."

"Here!" She shouted before dashing forward. Mohinder made to grab after her and missed, nearly toppling over in the attempt.

She gave them an once-over in surprise and the professor couldn't even begin to figure out what she was thinking as 'Nurse Brown' gave them both a winning smile.

"Come on now. Let's go see Daddy."

Molly didn't even blink at the implication but Mohinder stumbled, mind frozen in shock. _'God, people come to the strangest conclusions!'_

They passed what felt like a hundred of rooms, the professor following the human GSP just a few steps behind, before Nurse Brown stopped at Room 201.

"Now he's still coming in and out of consciousness and he'll be in some pain still. Just pop in and say hi and try not to be too overwhelming."

Molly nodded as if that information were the most important thing she'd ever heard. Mohinder smiled slightly, flushing when he saw how the older- God she could have been his mother!- woman blushed.

"We'll be gentle."

Molly didn't even wait for the nurse to leave before she was turning the doorknob and tiptoeing into Officer Parkman's room.

Dark blue eyes looked over tiredly, a small smile drifting across a too pale face as Molly bounced over and gently patted his arm.

"You're alive Officer Parkman!" she said in an awed, hushed voice.

The injured man smiled, trying not to laugh. "I think I've figured that out, Molly."

Mohinder hovered by the door, feeling especially uncomfortable in the presence of someone Molly obviously held above himself. The pressure of that someone's gaze on him turned his attention back on the reunited duo.

"What are you doing here?"

Molly scoffed as her hero wrapped a weak arm around her, as if he could protect her from the tall, dark stranger in his doorway.

"He's Dr. Suresh. Remember, he saved me from the virus I had."

He sent her a sharp look. "That still doesn't answer what he's doing with you."

Mohinder stiffened. "Molly will be staying with me from now on. With The Company distracted Molly will be safe with me."

Parkman nodded hesitantly, making the Indian man wonder if he wanted to spirit the girl off himself. Would she go with her hero once the cop was relea-

The man in the bed winced. "Stop thinking so much. My head hurts too much to figure out what in the hell you're worrying about."

Mohinder jerked, his mouth dropping open. "You can hear….you're a telepath!"

He shrugged. "If that's what you call this."

Molly stepped back. "We should let you go to sleep now, Officer Parkman. We'll come back tomorrow to see you again, okay?"

The telepath nodded a stern look on his face. "You'd better."

Molly giggled before returning back to Mohinder's side. The tall professor was still agog at the discovery of another special person.

"Good Night, my Hero."

The cop seemed to brighten at those words.

"Good night, Molly. Dr. Suresh."

Mohinder scratched the back of his head nervously. "Good night…..Officer Parkman."

* * *

Molly slept until almost noon, still recovering from her stint with the virus and exhausted from the fight and a long night in an ER waiting room. Mohinder gave her the only bed in the whole apartment, equip with fresh sheets while he passed out on the lumpy, old couch in the living room. 

Unfortunately, his own nightmares kept him from the long, restful sleep he needed. Jerking up with a sharp intake of breath, the Indian man gave his surroundings a quick study. He wasn't sure if the fact that the room looked like it had_ before _was worst than waking up in the mess of what it had been.

Shivering, and not because of the cold, Mohinder tried to pull himself together. His dark eyes scanned the couch absently, noticing a few drops of color that didn't match the pattern. More blood.

He'd need to get another couch as well as a bed for a little girl.

A sigh seemed to explode into being in the quiet room. This had been his first night back in his father's old apartment since Sylar had…done what he'd done to him, and while the fear still crept there in his mind, a sense of pride grew as well. He'd be damned if he would let _Sylar_ of all people run him out of the last place his father called home.

Steadied again, Mohinder rose to start a new day.

Molly didn't stumble out from bed until her rumbling stomach had caught the scent of pancakes frying.

"Hmm, that smells goooood."

"I didn't know if you would have preferred French toast or pancakes so I decided to go with the most common. Everyone likes pancakes." Mohinder explained, dishing two of the flat cakes out onto a plate and placing it before the famished girl. "Syrup, jam or butter?"

Molly wrinkled her nose. "Just syrup please."

"Alright. I've only water at the moment- it's been a while since I've been here."

"A'e we goin to bee Obbicer Parkban tobay?" Molly asked her mouth full. Mohinder sent her a look.

"Swallow first and repeat please."

The gulp was audible. "Are we going to see Officer Parkman today? We promised we would."

The geneticist nodded. "We'll go as soon as you've finished."

Mohinder was positive no child anywhere had eaten their food so fast before.

* * *

They stopped at the hospital gift shop this time around; Molly had begged, pouting lips, big watery eyes and all to get 'Officer Parkman' a get-well-soon gift. Torn between chocolates and a coffee mug, Mohinder solved the dilemma by simply buying both and stuffing the chocolates into the cup delicately. 

Molly was beaming as they trotted up the corridor.

An angry, dark-haired woman stormed out of Room 201, official-looking papers clutched in her hand. She didn't even acknowledge Molly's sunny 'Hello!' but just kept on walking, her hair flying behind her.

Molly took it all in stride, skipping in to see her hero with her mug of chocolates and a wide smile.

"Hello Officer Parkman! Are you feeling better?"

Honestly, Mohinder thought the cop looked like he had seen better days. His eyes were red-rimmed and sort of bruised looking while his cheeks were pale.

The bleak dullness in his gaze left at the sight of a nicely polished Molly holding what was obviously meant to be a gift.

"Yeah, I am. I feel even more better now that you're here."

He sat down just off to the side of the pair, watching with a small grin as Molly blushed and held out the coffee mug.

"Well this should help. It's chocolate- everything is better with chocolate."

Parkman laughed, holding his chest tightly as he did and accepted the gift with a quick kiss to the cheek. Molly sat back on the hospital bed, closer to her hero's knees. She cocked her head to the side.

"So who was the lady that ran out of here before? She wasn't very nice."

Mohinder winced at the frozen expression on the cop's face. He had a guess or two about who the angry woman could have been and what she might have been holding.

Dark blue eyes flickered over in his direction before dismissing the professor.

"That was my wife- my ex-wife actually."

The little girl blinked quickly. "Oh. That's like an ex-girlfriend right? That's not good?"

The telepath shrugged. "It's okay. Sometimes things don't work out."

A knock at the door stopped anymore talk of wives and failed marriages as a young blond nurse poked her head in.

"Ah, the Parkman family. Good. I'm here to tell you that the doctor will be by in about twenty minutes to let you know about post-op recovery."

Mohinder made to open his mouth to correct her assumption when the man in question spoke.

"Alright. Thanks."

A small smirk had settled on his lips as the blond grinned and gave them all a final once-over before closing the door behind her.

"She thinks we're actually a family." He addressed Mohinder this time, making the professor blush.

"I'd figured that out already. No one will give a chance to correct the mistaken assumption yet."

A quizzical eyebrow rose at the statement. "Yeesh, man, speak the English, please." He turned to their kid. "Does he always talk like this?"

Molly snickered. "Yup. He even _talks to himself_ like this. It's kinda funny."

Mohinder frowned. "Ha ha, very funny."

They continued to make small talk, mostly about Molly and what she was going to do now when the doctor arrived.

"Well, you must be feeling much better." This was a different doctor than the one from that night- here was a man who enjoyed what he did. "According to your test results we should be able to get those drain tubes out tomorrow and if all goes well you'll be home in a week."

Molly gasped happily. "So fast?"

The doctor grinned wider and bopped her on the head lightly. "As long as he has someone to watch over his progress and keep him off his feet for a while."

Bright eyes turned to the cop suddenly. "I can help! Where are you going to live, Officer Parkman?"

Mohinder saw pain and confusion cloud the injured man's face before he cleared his throat. "I….don't know."

The doctor frowned. "You're going to need help, Mr. Parkman. Even walking long will be painful and tiring without help until you regain your strength. If you have nowhere to go-"

"He can live with us!" Molly declared, making Mohinder jerk in his seat. Everyone paused before the telepath spoke. "I don't think Dr. Suresh will-"

Pleading, wide eyes were turned on the Indian man suddenly and he felt his resolve weakening quickly. "Please, Mohinder. We can't just leave him with no where to go. He's my hero……"

As if he could say no to that and not sound like an unfit guardian. God, an unfit human being….

Parkman was still trying to let Molly down gently when Mohinder spoke up.

"There's plenty of room in my apartment for the three of us, if you'd like."

The cop hesitated. "I don't want to be a bum-"

"It's no trouble, really and it would make Molly happy."

The geneticist practically felt the telepath fold at those last words. Molly squealed and clapped her hands in excitement when her hero gave a short nod.

"I can't cook." He warned his tone light.

"That's okay! Mohinder makes the best pancakes in the world and he even puts jam on them!" Their charge was still amazed at the very idea.

The doctor smiled warmly. "Well I better give this man here some information on patient-proofing his apartment and what he should expect when you go home, Mr. Parkman."

Mohinder rose. "Molly, please stay with Officer Parkman. You can conspire about my horrible pancake quirks while I'm gone."

"Matt." The cop said suddenly, startling him. "If I'm going to live with you I can't be Officer Parkman all the time. My name's Matt."

Mohinder nodded. "I assume you know my name is Mohinder Suresh by now."

Matt grinned suddenly. "Hey, can I call you Mo?"

The professor scowled and followed the grinning doctor out the door, keeping his own smile hidden from the laughing duo he left in the hospital room.

* * *

A/N: Okay Matt's recovery is really based on what my dad went through when he had open-heart surgery. I figure four bullets to the chest and stomach is sort equal to a triple-bypass. 

S. Tangerine


	2. Moving In

A/N: Darn it, I've been writing this and reading Matt/Mo fics for the last two days. Talk about inspiration. I am almost giddy at this wonderful ship. Gah, I actually have scenes for future chapters written out, that how damn excited I am about this. And plot bunnies for other stories! I could start a Linderman-ish collection.

Save me.

-snort-

Save the authoress. Save the story.

Thanks to everyone for the wonderful reviews and for the hints on where to find the best Matt/Mo stories.

* * *

Pieces of Me

Chapter Two: Moving In

The seven day deadline had obviously given Mohinder Suresh a chance to shop and spruce up his place. Still, Matt liked the space; it was comfy but not in that too small way that had you bending over to put something in the oven and accidentally knocking over the beer you had on the coffee table with your ass.

Everyone had there own room, although the professor's was more like a study with a bed put in so that he could stumble from his laptop and collapse into a semi-coma, and the kitchen corner was small enough to give them some room for a half-decent table.

It was a bit obvious that things had been switched up by the way there were no signs of a ten-year-old on the floor and how the furniture had been rearranged to give Matt a clear path from his bedroom to the bathroom and couch. There was a pretty sturdy looking table/dresser/wooden thing in the hallway- as a rest stop or something he guessed- and what looked to be a very squishy lazy boy in front of the TV.

In the middle of it all was The Couch.

A _brand spanking new _couch.

The cop, tired from the whole song and dance of getting released, stopped in his tracks and just stared at the reddish-rust colored fabric.

Molly followed his gaze and rolled her eyes.

"Mohinder got rid of the old one. Said it was no good or something."

The tall Indian man sighed and wrinkled his nose slightly. "It had stains."

"I didn't see any stains." Their charge said innocence practically seeping from her skin.

"It smelt funny."

Molly looked thoughtful. "It kinda smelt like cooking stuff. You know, spices."

Mohinder frowned at Molly's way of teasing. "I just didn't like it. Besides, isn't this one much more comfortable?"

Matt eased his way through his new room mates. "I wouldn't care if it was pink and purple polka-dotted- it's a couch."

The professor grinned widely. "Now there's a sensible man."

The compliment filled him with a strange sort of warmth; it had been a long time since someone had said something nice about Matt Parkman. When Janice hadn't yelled about her disappointment with him she sure had _thought_ about it. _Loudly._

Mohinder wandered off down the hall, carrying the two suitcases of clothing his new room mate's ex-wife had been kind enough to bring. It filled him with a cold fury, although he kept it very deep with his mind, when he thought about that…._that woman_.

Molly settled down on the couch, her legs crossed and her chin resting in her hands. Matt picked up the remote to the TV and cocked his head to the side for second before tuning into Channel 07 just in time to catch the last straining notes of The Simpsons theme song.

"Whoa…." She whispered in awe. "I was just thinking about asking if you wanted to watch this."

The cop smirked slightly. "I know."

Molly grinned back before gently snuggling up to her hero's side.

_'He is so cool!'_

The thought was simply too loud to ignore, making the telepath feel that warm happiness again. Twice in one day- hadn't they stopped the morphine a few days ago?

Mohinder came out of the hallway just in time to see Homer Simpson throttling his only son.

"Dear God, what is that man doing?"

The two couch potatoes sent him a disbelieving look before quickly turning back to the TV.

_'Well that was a stupid question, Suresh.'_

"Ah, Homer is always choking Bart- you get used to it after a while." Matt replied without thinking, making the professor start.

A few startled blinks passed without a response before….

"That's amazing!"

"Huh?" The cop hummed.

"What?" Molly asked, distracted.

Mohinder made to speak, his mouth opening and closing before he caught the glazed expression of someone trapped in the bliss of the television lights on both of their faces.

"Never mind. I'll just make dinner." He said with a small smile. They were bonding already. _Over cartoon child abuse._ Wasn't the world wonderful? Mohinder had decided long ago, that all the people on his father's list were decidedly peculiar and not because they could read minds or fly.

A double-episode of The Simpsons was just long enough for the mouth-watering scent of hamburgers to fill the air, just masking the smell of baked potatoes. As the closing credits began to roll the rumbling of stomachs could be heard all the way across the apartment.

Molly bounced up from her seat and followed the scents to her other guardian's side. "Mm, that smells so good!"

"It smells like Black Angus hamburgers." Matt called from the living room, before easing up and shuffling towards the kitchen. "Anything we can do to help?"

"Set the table please. Then take your medication and relax. You're supposed to be healing, not doing housework."

Molly nodded, creating a united front. "Just hand me the plates and glasses and park it mister."

Outnumbered, Matt raised his hands in the air- the universal surrender sign- and did as he was told. All the dishes had been moved down on the lower shelves, making it easier for the injured cop to reach them without straining himself.

Proudly, Molly set the table for three this time, straightening and re-straightening the forks and knives again and again. _'Our first meal together should be perfect.'_

"Pills Parkman." Came the reminder as their cook started to pile the hamburger patties onto a plate.

Matt ambled over to the counter and picked up one of the pill bottles, suddenly filled with a sense of dread. The clear orange bottle was covered with a large white label and a jumble of multicolored strips filled with instructions and reminders.

Only to him, the words and numbers looked like a bunch of gibberish.

_'Damn dyslexia. Now how am I supposed to figure this out without doing something stupid, like overdosing?'_

"Is there a problem?"

Mohinder's soothing voice cut through Matt's confusion and frustration like a hot knife through butter. Dark blue eyes glanced up before lowering in shame.

"I- I can't read the labels- or anything else- that well." A dark frown marred his face. "Stupid dyslexia."

The Indian man blinked once in obvious surprise before nodding. He rubbed his hands together briefly. "Alright. This shouldn't be a problem. Here, give me those."

Anger flitted across his features, held in check by Molly's presence. "I don't need your pity."

Mohinder snorted. "I'm a teacher- a professor. I've had to deal with my fair share of students with learning disabilities. It's just a matter of making the information fit into your perception of it."

"English, maybe?"

_'I have a British accent how can I be anymore Engli- oh he wants it simplified.'_

"It's like taking the information, in this case the instructions on the pill bottle, and tweaking it, to change it into something both of us will understand."

"Like our very own special code?" Molly asked, excitement lighting up her face.

Mohinder nodded his eyes still on her hero. There was no pity or disgust or even that annoyingly smug I-am-so-much-better-than-you-so-nyah look some of the guys on the force got when they talked about Matt's problem. Just a simple desire to be helpful. Honest to God kindness.

Curious, Matt put the bottle into the still outstretched hand and watched as the professor rummaged through the drawer on the end of the countertop. A black permanent marker was used to write one large number on the cover of each pill bottle.

"There." He held up the first one. "This is the number of pills you need to take each time. All of them call for a dose twice a day, so you can start here tonight. Tomorrow, we'll go to the pharmacy and see about getting you one of those pill cases."

Matt nodded and took the bottles back. That had been…..easy. No ridicule, no pity and best of all, simple acceptance and help. No one, not Janice and sure as hell not the LAPD had been willing to work with him and his disability. It was…nice.

That warm feeling returned as Matt sat down to dinner and Molly looked up and said "My friend Billy had ADD. He was pretty cool."

"Now that would have been kinda cool to have." Matt grumbled taking a peek into his little girl's mind. "Figures I'd get the stupid one."

Molly surged forward. "But you're special, Officer- Matt! You're my hero, you're not stupid."

A hamburger, just waiting to be covered in toppings, was set down on his plate by a dark skinned hand. "You should listen to our girl- she's a smart one."

**Our girl….**

Such a simple phrase lifted the dark cloud that had been hovering over the cop vanished.

Problem solved.

Matt was drowning his potato in butter when Molly tried to speak around her hamburger.

"When am I goin' to sch-kool?"

Both men froze before immediately catching each other's eyes. They let the show of bad manners slip in the view of bigger problems. Mohinder's worried thoughts of _'God she's bored with us already?' _and _'Goodness she does need to go to school.'_ matched Matt's completely.

"Um, there's about….what nearly three months left to the year?" he asked, unsure of when school closed down for the summer in New York. "That's not very much time to catch up…" He knew from experience that school was hard work and she was just getting better.

Molly rolled her eyes. "You know I didn't just sit in a room and play all day- I did learn math and science and history. No gym classes though. That's my favorite."

Mohinder tapped on his plate lightly with his fork, his face thoughtful. "I suppose we could enroll you for the rest of the year….you'd have to be tested, of course. Are you up to that?"

She nodded brightly. "I'm good. I'm all better now and with your help I could do it easy." She turned to her hero. "You'll help too, right Matt?"

Gah, they were in so much trouble if neither one of them could say no to this child. The cop shrugged. "Sure thing, though I probably won't be much help."

Mohinder chuckled. "She just said her favorite subject is gym and we all know I'm more of a scholarly type. You'll be plenty of help."

Matt snorted, the sound not negative but full of amused happiness. He wouldn't argue with a tried and true scientist and his little girl. Well, he could, but he probably wouldn't win.

Settling into bed that night, he reflected on Molly's nervous thoughts and smiled secretly to himself. While the apartment wasn't a penthouse, and the meal had been fried, previously frozen hamburgers and baked potatoes, the night really had been…..perfect.

* * *

A/N: Just a note about the S2 finale last night- Matt and Nathan are officially my best friend ship on here. "Let's never speak of this again." –DIES-

S. Tangerine


	3. Chef Matt

A/N: This would have been out sooner, if the gods of life hadn't been conspiring against me. First there was Christmas and New Years at work- which was hell I might add. Then I ended up with the Flu bug form Hell and then I found Death Note. I love that show. Hut here it is and the next part shouldn't be quite so long in coming.

* * *

Pieces of Me

Chapter Three: Chef Matt

_--No! Stop it….please don't do this!—_

Matt snorted in his sleep, the forceful, frightened thought bursting into his mind. As it faded, sleep took a firmer hand.

**--I can see you. It's the Nightmare Man! Go away!—**

_--Get off of me! Stop!—_

The sudden crowding of two extra voices in his mind, followed by the high-pitched, terrified screams of their little girl had Matt shooting out of bed, mindless of any physical or mental pain.

The other voice stopped just as suddenly as he reached his door and flung it open just in time to see Mohinder doing the same.

"Molly." They spoke together, one voice overlapping the other, bound in fear as two grown men tried to dash up the narrow hallway. They collided, wincing at the harsh connection of shoulders. Matt hissed.

"Oh for the love of- come here!" Mohinder huffed sharply before flinging one of Matt's arms around his shoulders and propelling them both towards the frightened screams.

Molly was covered in fear-sweat, her face pinched in that painful expression only the most horrible of nightmares could produce.

**--Go away! Leave me alone!—**

Matt paused in confusion. That second terrified voice was gone, just Molly trapped by….. "What the f-It's the nightmare man?"

Mohinder jerked his head over to stare at his room mate, his dark eyes wide. "Wake her up. Now."

Two sets of hands grasped her shoulders and arms. "Molly!" The Indian man tried, shaking her gently. Matt touched her face, his hand slipping from the moisture of tears and sweat. "Molly-doll, it's just a dream. Wake yourself up. I'm he- we're here."

With a jolt and a sharp gasp their little girl shot up, nearly colliding with her frantic guardians. Panting, she looked around the room, just taking in her surroundings and the fact that she was actually here, _safe_, with her two heroes by her side. Then the flood gates crumbled and Molly all but collapsed into a sobbing mess of terrified child.

"He knows! He knows I can see him!"

Mohinder made a distressed sound, rubbing her back and kissing the crown of her sweaty, tangled hair.

"Don't fret sweetie. We won't let anything happen to you."

For a man who, for the last two weeks he had spent visiting him in the hospital, had an almost paralyzing fear of being a bad father, Matt thought the guy was doing a damn fine job. Mohinder did all the work while he simply had to rub her shaking hands and make soft comforting noises to get Molly to calm down.

Her eyes were blinking slowly as she settled back onto her pillow, her breathing slowing down to its regular rate.

"Are you sure the nightmare man can't get us?" She whispered softly, needing one last reassurance.

Mohinder nodded solemnly. "I'm sure. Besides, we have a full-blown police officer staying just down the hall and you know best that Matthew would never let anyone hurt you."

The telepath caught the thought 'play along' before nodding himself.

"Yeah, Squirt. Between me and Sparky here, you're safer than the bank."

Molly giggled half-heartedly, too wiped to put up any real effort.

"Don't call me squirt."

As she drifted off to sleep, Matt sent Mohinder a 'you better start explaining in the next five seconds or I _will_ use excessive force' type of look.

The doctor frowned, jerking his head at their little girl.

_'Give her a few more moments and then we'll talk out in the kitchen. No shouting.'_

Well, duh. Besides, Matt was pretty sure he'd had his fill of shouting with his previous marriage.

…….not to say this was in any way a marriage-type……thing. Right.

The tension in Molly's shoulders slipped away as sleep took a firm hold on her. Mohinder eased up off the tiny bed slowly, as if ready to drop back down in a moment's notice.

The cop followed his lead; it seemed to be the right way to make an escape because Molly didn't stir and his chest didn't feel like it was going to burst open from the searing pain of breathing.

Mohinder's warm, smooth fingers wrapped around his wrist suddenly, as the doctor put one of those digits to his lips and lead them out into the dimly light kitchen.

Molly's door was left open a hand's width- just to be safe.

Matt huffed as Mohinder started towards the kettle, filling it with water and plugging it in without a word.

"What in the hell is this nightmare man Molly is dreaming about?!"

Mohinder bit his lip, taking down two mugs and filling them both with a bit of instant coco. He pointed to one of the kitchen chairs. "Wait a moment."

Matt stood, stubborn. "I am not going to 'wait a moment' when our little girl is screaming her head of in fright."

The professor whirled around, his eyebrows drawn in his own anger. "And we are both too wound up to talk about this right now, without it resulting in shouting and harsh words. Let me think!"

Matt backed down a bit, nodding his consent but hoping the doc knew he would be getting some answers tonight- from Mohinder's lips or his mind.

The kettle clicked in the hard silence, filled only with light breathing and the gurgle of water being poured. The rapid clicks of a spoon against the side of one, then two mugs was almost like the toll of a bell before Mohinder sat down with a heavy sigh.

"I don't know much about her nightmare man- Molly barely spoke of him while in the Company's care. What I have been able to figure out is that, while Molly's ability allows her to find people- psychically see them- there one that can 'see' her back."

Matt fiddled with the handle on the steaming mug of coco, ignoring the scalding heat. "You mean eh can find her?"

The professor shrugged. "I'm not sure. I don't think so- it's more likely that this person's power is mental as well, and simply means he can detect another person 'spying' on him." A puzzled look flew across Mohinder's face suddenly. "Since when has this nightmare man been positively identified as a male?"

Mat quirked a half smile. "One of these days I will get you to use proper English, but whatever. I think it's because Molly calls him the nightmare man and not the nightmare woman."

Mohinder stroked his rim of his mug thoughtfully. Matt noticed he did that with a lot of things he held- just touched them. It was somewhat distracting, the hypnotic movement of the doc's graceful hand.

"The correct term would be nightmare person then, since the gender is still unknown."

The cop rolled his eyes. "Don't go getting all politically correct and shit on me. Molly says he's a nightmare man, the dude's a dude. What's more important is how do we get him out of her head?"

Mohinder huffed. "I have absolutely no idea and that's- this isn't a nice man, Matthew." The doc's face was hard in the harsh light of the kitchen. "He's tormenting a little girl for no reason." Mohinder was furious.

Matt knew the feeling; he was a cop, it was his job to stop sickos like this nightmare man. Only how did he stop a crook that hid in a little girl's nightmares?

Mohinder had a wary, thoughtful look on his face as he stroked his mug absently. He spoke in halting English, the accent even more bizarre than ever.

"We need to see what she's dreaming. To disprove it. It's like looking under the bed when a child tells you he's sure there's a monster under there. Children trust their parents to protect them." Here, he hesitated briefly, knowing on his bottom lip. "Can you hear her nightmares?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah. I can hear every thought she has- it was like a freaking clock radio went off in my head- why?"

Mohinder tapped the mug gently. "What about pictures? Images and videos and memories? Can you see either of them as well?"

The cop scratched his head tiredly. "Sorta. If you think about something hard enough, or if you're really really emotional, I get theses…..fuzzy pictures or something. Nothing very strong or clear though, more like the negatives of a set of pictures."

Mohinder cursed. "Damn it! I was hoping you'd maybe be able to get a clear identification on this nightmare man."

Matt quirked an eyebrow and scoffed. "And do what? Arrest him for giving Molly nightmares? Not exactly something that would hold up in court."

The professor scowled. "He's tormenting a child- I'm sure with a name and a face to go by you could out just what other nefarious deeds he's done."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Okay, this conversation is over when you use words that are more than six letters long." A serious expression crossed his face. "I'll see what I can get from Molly but…… it might take more than once."

Mohinder gripped his tea cup tightly, nodding once before finishing his drink and rising. "We should get back to bed. Nightmares or not, Molly is still a ten-year old child- she'll be up and eating sugar before we are tomorrow."

Matt watched his new room mate set their cups in the sink after being rinsed out with water, and quickly hurry off to bed.

It didn't escape his notice that the buzz of speeding thoughts in the back of Matt's mind didn't stop until sometime near dawn.

* * *

The light in his eyes was annoying.

Matt grunted at it and rolled over but the feeling that he was supposed to be vertical wouldn't leave now that that light had come into it.

One dark blue eye cracked open, scanning the edge of the bed for a clock or a space monkey or…… something.

The red numbers shone out at him reproachfully.

10:45

Matt sat up with a frown. What in the hell? Why was it so quiet? Quicker than he even thought his mind could go in the morning, fear gripped Matt.

Had something happened while he had slept? Where was Molly? Mohinder?!

Chest aching like a mother, Matt levered himself up and to his feet, forgoing his pants to rush out into the hallway. Mohinder's door was ajar just enough for the cop to peek in and relax. A lump in the middle of the bed, topped by a head of curly black hair greeted him. Mohinder slept like a puppy, and curled up and covered, as if the monsters would get him if he let them. The posture sat weird in Matt's mind- Mo was one tough guy when he needed to be. Why was he sleeping like a terrified kid?

It boggled his simple mind, but speaking of terrified kids…….

Matt eased his way towards Molly's room, peeking his head around the door jam slowly. Molly was curled up on her side, facing the door. Her head and shoulders were visible, a small frown on her lips as she slept. A quick peek into her mind- no one would know anyway- showed a rather confusing dream about lost socks and a purple rabbit.

A deep growl gurgled up through the cop's stomach, echoing loudly in the eerily silent apartment. Matt was starved. The monster in his belly was slowly eating a path from his belly button in through his spine.

It needed grub, now.

Mohinder hadn't stirred from his spot curled up in his bed, blocking out the world with his bright reddish orange comforter and Matt didn't have the heart to wake him. He probably had the stomach, but his fuzzy haired room mate was bushed and Matt had a dilemma.

He was a hungry man- no a hungry cop. A starving cop in need of some good morning food. A famish cop, who couldn't cook, in desperate need of food.

Matt stood in the hallway for a moment, dressed only in his undies, thinking.

A feeling something like the one that had filled his chest at the thought of stopping Sylar bloomed in Matt. He was a cop, damn it he could fend for himself.

With a determined expression, Matt headed off towards the kitchen with plan. Or a fantasy of sizzling pancakes at least.

* * *

The sound of something frying combined with the soft shush of running water in the bathroom brought Mohinder to instant wakefulness. He was so….acclimated to living alone, even the monotonous everyday noises of other people awoke him.

Of course, Mohinder also knew his somewhat overly paranoid behavior had started after Sylar had……hurt him. The idea that that horrible man could come out of nowhere, at any time had had Mohinder restless for nights on end.

The geneticist simply lay there for a second, listening to the almost comforting sounds of feet shuffling across the carpet and the soft thumps of bowls on the kitchen counter before the need to be doing something made him rise.

His favorite pink shirt was reasonably clean, good enough to pull on with his read and purple plaid pajama pants. Molly did a double take at the clothing, her face still covered in soapy bubbles as her second hero walked by the bathroom door. Mohinder smiled at her as he greeted his favorite little girl in the world.

"Good morning Molly."

The little girl scrubbed the remaining soap off her face quickly. "Actually it's good afternoon, but thank you. Matt's in the kitchen already."

Something felt off about that comment, making Mohinder pause on his own trek towards the kitchen. Matthew….kitchen….Matthew…cooking in the kitchen? Dark eyebrows furrowed in thought before inky eyes widened as a loud bang and the clatter of silverware and curses could be heard.

When the scent of burning….something began to waft into the hallway, Mohinder gave up on trying to figure out what was so…bizarre about Matthew being in the kitchen. His bare feet made on sound on the carpeted floor, keeping the cop from noticing his approaching room mate. The scene that greeted the doctor had an amused smile spreading across his lips suddenly- there was a decidedly manly man using a pot holder to fan the curling tendrils of black smoke out the open window, never minding to simply turn off the burner.

A spatula was tucked under one arm, a half used bag of something in the other, Matthew looked very awkward and unsure of himself in this environment. The countertop was covered in white powder and runny batter, a trail down the front of one of the cupboard doors showed where a spoon had dropped to its messy end.

Then it hit Mohinder.

Dear God…Mathew couldn't cook!

Matt was glad that no one could read his thoughts at the moment, his arms flailing about trying to hold onto the spatula and the flour bag and get rid of that damn smoke before it set off the fire alarm and the sprinklers. For one, if someone could read his mind, they would probably find it a jumbled mess of 'oh godoh godohgodohgodohgod' and a few curses words that probably hadn't even been invented yet. Why was this so hard?

A choked, somewhat amused noise just off to the right behind him, had the cop jumping around and dropping the bag of flour. The pot holder was swept out in front of him, brandished like a sword before Matt took in the sight of Mohinder dressed in obscenely colorful clothing and a smirk.

"Good afternoon, Officer Parkman."

Matt stared at him, blinking. "I'm trying to respond with something witty and smart aleck-y but your clothes are assaulting my brain."

Mohinder crossed his arms over his chest with a huff.

'_Oh shut up.'_

Dark eyes drifted over Matt's shoulder, widening and reminding him of the fucking pancakes.

"Shit-crap!" Spatula freed, the cop quickly removed the frying pan from the burner and tried to lift the pancakes out and onto a plate.

They didn't budge.

"Ohhhhhhhh damn." Matt muttered to himself before the thoughts of the man behind him turned soft and deliberate.

Mohinder sniffed the air hesitantly. "I thought you said you couldn't cook."

Matt turned around shrugged, feeling that embarrassed kind of heat creeping up his neck and through his cheeks. "Well, I can't- I just figured since it was my first true morning here and I said I wasn't going to mooch offa you I tried to make breakfast."

Molly made a slight gagging noise as she exited her room.

"Ew, what smells like throw up?"

Matt winced at the criticism, feeling that dark curl of shame rise up. He always screwed up!

Mohinder saw the slight fall of Matt's shoulders and quickly tried to set it right.

"Matt was making…..pancakes, I think. We seem to have overslept."

Molly beamed at her hero.

"Aw. You're the best!"

Matt shifted at the praise, shuffling his feet and scratching the back of his head with the hand that still held the spatula. He winced at the pull of his chest muscles.

Mohinder caught it with a sudden frown.

"Sit down. You've strained yourself."

Molly looked fearful. "Are you okay, Matt? Do you need to go to the hospital?" She didn't wait for an answer, whipping around to stare at Mohinder. "Does he need to go to the hospital?"

The doctor shook his head, easing her fears quickly. "Not if you can get Matthew to rest, like the doctor told him to."

Matt suddenly found himself trapped within the big round eyes of a ten-year old girl. Molly was a Jedi- she had to be. How else could someone so tiny get a fully grown police officer- who could read minds- to sit docilely at the kitchen table while his wild-haired, British accented roommate/ubber-smart guy freaked out about said police officer's health?

She was a freaking force of nature their Molly-girl.

Mohinder stepped forward and eased the spatula from the cop's hand before attempting to scrape the pancakes off of the frying pan. The stuck like crazy-glue had been used on the pan instead of a quick spray of Pam.

"Goodness, Matt the flour is way up on the top shelf- you shouldn't have tried to reach it." The doctor scolded gently as he viciously tried to scrape the burnt mess off his now half-melted spatula using the rim of the ruined frying pan.

Matt frowned. "It is?"

Molly choked on a giggle as Mohinder froze, staring at the mess in confusion. Matt looked a tiny bit fearful as the professor dipped two fingers into the congealing batter and quickly stuck them in his mouth.

The giggles couldn't be contained as Mohinder's face morphed from confusion to complete and utter revulsion. Matt wondered if you could poison someone with pancake batter.

"Um, so….I guess it wasn't the right stuff then?"

Mohinder cleared his throat harshly once, then again before attempting to speak.

"No, I'm afraid it was not. One does not use powdered sugar and baking powder to make pancakes." He straightened up, dumping the bowl into the sink slowly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go and wash my mouth out with hydrogen peroxide."

Matt groaned, covering his face with his hands. Molly sat down next to him, patting his arm in reassurance.

"Don't worry. Mohinder can cook but his Homer Simpson impersonations _suck_." She sighed. "Homer isn't supposed to sound like Harry Potter."

Matt snorted, uncovering his face to ruffle his little girl's hair. She squealed and tried to bat his hands away until Mohinder returned and announced that he would be dropping by the bakery and picking up some breakfast muffins before it was too late.

And so, the Amazing Pancake Massacre of Wednesday Morning was the first and last meeting of Chef Matt.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Just so you know, I've also joined the missioninsane community on livejournal. I'll be writing Heroes fics if anyone is interested. About 200 of them.

S. Tangerine


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